


Two Can Be Better Than One, Right?

by Bennyhatter



Category: Original Work
Genre: Begging, Body Sharing, Deepthroating, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Fingering, First Time, In a sense, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, No one got last names lol oops, Original work - Freeform, Supernatural Elements, does not stay that way, hints of violence, inspiration fic, starts off somewhat dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 07:12:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14971823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bennyhatter/pseuds/Bennyhatter
Summary: Tommy has known Caleb since they were in college. After graduation, they decided to move in together. Six months later, Tommy meets Tex, which is... not something he was expecting.





	Two Can Be Better Than One, Right?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TWDObsessive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/gifts).
  * Inspired by [say my name](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13188006) by [PoemIsDead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoemIsDead/pseuds/PoemIsDead). 



> HEY LOOK I'M ALIVE.
> 
> Y'all, I've fallen into a new hole and I'm not sure I will ever emerge from it. And honestly, I'm pretty cool with that, because YouTube Let's Players are incredible and amazing people, and I'm not sure how I went so long without them.
> 
> ANYWAY.
> 
> This little piece is actually inspired by a piece of fiction written by the incredible PoemIsDead. They write amazing, amazing things, and I've fallen absolutely in love with their fic "say my name". It is from that fic that this little work was born, so I am giving credit where credit is due. <3 GO READ IT IF IT'S YOUR THING IT'S AMAZING AAAHHHHHHHHHH
> 
> ALSO ALSO: Today is my friend TWDObsessive's birthday! SHE IS AMAZING AND SHE DESERVES ALL THE GOOD THINGS SO I'M TAGGING HER IN THIS HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVELY GODDESS!

Tommy is in the middle of browsing through Caleb’s movie collection when he hears the bathroom door creak open down the narrow hallway. He doesn't look up until the heavy footsteps pause in the doorway of the living room; flicks a lock of blonde hair out of his eyes and finally turns toward his roommate.

“Hey, man, didn't you say you ha-”

The rest of the sentence dies in his throat, his muscles freezing like a rabbit who's been spotted by a wolf. His mouth is open but he can't remember how to close it; fear trickles down his spine in a slow, cold crawl.

The man leaning against the doorframe grins crookedly at him. It's Caleb’s face looking at him, his roommate's lean body curved against the dark wood, but Tommy knows with a confusing, shuddering certainty, that he's not staring at his friend right now. Those normally wide, expressive eyes are hooded and dark, the usual bright blue irises turned to glittering, liquid amber. His teeth gleam; his canines are too long, and they look unnaturally sharp against his full, pale lower lip.

“Hello, Tommy,” he says, and he doesn't sound anything like Caleb. There's no bubbling happiness. Instead, each word is low and rough, bitten out sharply and vibrating with the undercurrent of a growl. Violence rolls off of him like heat from sun-baked asphalt, filling the room and pressing in around Tommy until he feels like he can't breathe. His breath hitches loudly and stays caught in his throat; his jaw works, but no words come. He feels like if he moves, the creature watching him will lunge, a lion locked on its target and waiting for the inevitable stumble.

After a moment, the thing wearing his roommate's body pushes away from the wall, drawing himself to his fullest height. Caleb is stupidly tall to begin with; this creature makes him seem even taller and broader, commanding the room with his presence and _prowling_ closer. Caleb doesn't prowl; he's not a beast. He slouches everywhere, taking up space with his long limbs and his easy, playful personality.

There's nothing left of that here. Each step is silent and deliberate, those amber eyes devouring him as a long tongue drags across his lower lip. Tommy follows the action, fear and _something else_ twisting through his stomach. His mouth is still open, his tongue dry. It feels almost ten degrees hotter in the room now; sweat beads across his warm forehead and drips down his nape the longer he stares at the thing across from him.

“Wh-” he finally wheezes, but nothing else follows no matter how much he tries to force it. Adrenaline makes him pant and tremble, feeling even smaller where he's kneeling next to the bookshelf that holds their movies. One limp hand rests on the shelf by his shoulder, the other hanging by his side. He watches the creature advance, screaming at himself to _move_. **_Run_**. But he doesn't; he can't. All he can do is watch.

A broad hand reaches toward him, one long finger slipping under his lax chin to coax his mouth closed. “You'll catch flies like that, pet,” the creature purrs, danger simmering in every syllable. A rough thumb drags across his cheek, over his lower lip; back and forth until it comes to rest against against the center of his mouth. Tommy isn't sure how to classify the noise that he makes -- confused and scared, maybe; desperate for several reasons, with a dash of anticipation that makes something coil in his gut. When that thumb nudges against the seam of his lips, he trembles and jerks his head back slightly. Just enough to watch those amber eyes flash.

“What's got your tongue, kitten?”

Swallowing thickly, Tommy flinches at the dry, painful rasp and tries to wet his tongue. “What…” Anxiety clouds his mind and muddies his thoughts, leaving him stuck in the thick, oppressive aura that drags him down like tar. It's hot and sticky against his skin, curling like a curious tongue until he's shuddering, his muscles jumping from the phantom drag of fingers.

“Speak up, sweetling.” The creature's thumbnail teases past his parted lips, clicking against his front teeth. It's sharper than it should be -- Caleb always keeps his nails short -- but when he feels a broad palm settle against the back of his head, claws scraping almost tenderly across his scalp, Tommy whimpers and sways closer helplessly.

“Caleb?” he rasps, his roommate's name tasting rich on his tongue; soured slightly by trepidation and concern, but somehow it's not enough to send him screaming. He should, he knows he should, but a part of him -- the part that's winning -- tells him that if he does run, he'll be dragged down like the prey he feels he is. He'll be slaughtered for his cowardice.

The creature lets out another low, echoing rumble. “Very good guess, my sweet,” he praises. His thumb slips in a little further, nudging Tommy’s clenched teeth apart to settle over his tongue. He tastes hot flesh and something musky; something coppery that he tries not to think about too hard. It makes his stomach lurch even as he chases the taste, his eyes fluttering closed and his hips twitching minutely. He feels like he's being drugged, the world beyond this creature fading out of focus until everything is blurry and nothing else matters but the thumb in his mouth and the claws dragging over his scalp.

“Caleb is sleeping right now,” Tommy hears the man say, but he sounds like he's speaking from far away. “You can call _me_ Tex, kitten.”

Tommy lets the thumb slide from his mouth. “Tex,” he repeats obediently before latching onto it again; those claws scratching gently behind his ear feel as rewarding as any verbal praise he could have received otherwise. The lightest pressure guides him forward until his cheek is rubbing against the soft, thick material of the sweatpants Caleb -- _Tex_ , his mind whispers, _his name is Tex_ \-- is wearing. He nuzzles against the dark gray fabric, breathing in musk and sweat and something he doesn't know how to name. It's addicting either way, his tongue slipping past the thumb he's sucking to try and catch a taste. When his mouth is suddenly empty, he feels bereft, chasing after the hand and whining when the fingers carding through his hair grip to hold him in place.

“What did you do to me?” Looking up, Tommy meets those hooded eyes and feels a shiver run down his spine. Tex smiles and it looks more like he's baring his teeth, his canines thicker and sharper than they have any business being. There's nothing about him that says _human_ \-- quite the opposite, in fact, and it's as thrilling as it is unnerving.

“I haven't done a single thing to you, pet,” Tex rumbles. Tommy lets himself be pulled closer again, his nose pressing into the crease of the creature's groin; directly beside the hard, heavy lump he can faintly feel pulsing against his cheek. He turns and mouths at it instinctively, moaning at the taste of cotton that covers his tongue and shaking his head weakly.

“I've never-”

“But you've wanted to,” the creature purrs down at him, his hips pressing closer; his broad hand heavy and immovable as stone against the back of Tommy’s head. “You've wanted him for years, kitten. I've seen it. He knows it.” The thumb he'd been sucking hooks in the waistband of those sweatpants and he fixates on that, watching hungrily as Tex teases them lower, the jut of his hip bone peeking into view. “He wants you,” the creature adds in a low, rough growl. “He wants to bend you over the couch and fuck you until you're sobbing. He wants to bruise that pretty throat until everyone knows that you're owned and no one will dare touch you. He wants so badly to open you up a finger at a time; one, two, three, four, _five._ Until you're screaming and all you know is his name. Until you're screaming _my_ name, kitten. We'll ruin you until you can't scream at all.”

Tommy sobs for breath, too hot and desperate to try and think straight. His hands are limp in his lap, framing the bulge in his loose shorts, but he can't think enough to try and do anything about the need growing between his legs. He's too focused on every inch of skin being bared, the waistband sliding low enough to reveal thick pubic curls that make his mouth flood with saliva. He leans forward, dragging his lips through them; mouthing at the base of the cock he can feel like a brand across his neck. Tex is making a rough noise in the back of his throat, something low and pleased.

“He likes it when we talk to him,” he hisses with glee. “Our kitten likes to hear our filthy plans for him. He wants to be tied down and fucked, don't you, pet? You want us to bruise and break and _ruin_ you until you can't move, don't you?”

His fingers twitch, and then Tommy is grabbing for Tex’s sweatpants and yanking them down the rest of the way. The hot, sticky crown of the creature's cock smacks against his cheek, wet at the tip and throbbing like a heartbeat. “ _Yes_ ,” he moans before he turns his head and sucks as much of it into his mouth as he can; pushing until it hits the back of his throat and he gags.

The noise Tex makes at that is guttural and animalistic, his lips pulling back from his teeth as his hands tangle in Tommy’s hair. The creature pulls and he whines in response, pleasure and prickles of pain bleeding down from those points of contact and filling him until he's overflowing; too hot, too eager, a new kind of desperation tinting his actions as he sucks and bobs his head. He's been thinking about this for so long now, about doing this with _Caleb,_ and that thought is enough to remind him whose body this actually is. He pulls back with a rough gasp, his throat already sore and his jaw starting to ache from what he's trying to accommodate.

“Caleb?” he murmurs unevenly, fingers twitching with nerves against his thighs when he looks up through the messy fringe of his bangs. Those amber eyes glitter down at him, nails digging pleasantly into his scalp. After a moment, the air around them changes. Some of the overpowering pressure fades away, bright blue swirling through the amber of those alien eyes.

“Tommy boy,” the man above him rasps, blunt nails dragging through his hair and making him shiver, making him whine. “Why'd ya stop?”

It's Caleb’s voice, but not quite, rough and echoing with an uncharacteristic growl. Those teeth are still inhuman, those eyes burning deep into his soul, scorching out a place for the creature above him to curl into; a spot that will never be the same without his -- _their_ \-- presence.

Swallowing thickly, Tommy leans back in and licks at the cock twitching so close to his cheek, groaning quietly at the taste that paints itself across his tongue. “Okay?” he asks, his voice just as wrecked, if not more so. “Don't… don't wanna…”

“Tommy.” That voice, at once light and rumbling, growling and sweet, has his eyes snapping up to the face tilted down toward him. He watches, fascination mingling with unease, as those fangs blunt and sharpen, blunt and sharpen. The muscles across their face ripple and twitch, their pupils blowing wide before shrinking to pinpricks.

“Can we fuck your mouth?”

It's so surprising that he can't help but let out a bark of laughter; something he regrets when his throat aches sharply at the sudden burst of vibration. “Yeah,” he gasps, reaching out with greedy fingers to grip the creature's hipbones. “Yeah, yes, _please_.”

“Promise, talk later,” Caleb groans, the best he can seem to manage, and the next noise he makes is another low, primal rumble of pleasure. He bares sharp teeth, nails trailing down to dig into Tommy’s nape and guide him forward needlessly. He all but falls against his friend's legs in his haste to shuffle closer, fingertips pressing harshly into tan hips until a warning growl stops him.

“On your lap, kitten,” Tex says, no room for debate in his tone. The pressure presses in on all sides again, crushing and cushioning, but the blue hasn't left his eyes. They swirl, constantly changing, and Tommy can't help but stare until he feels himself being pulled closer. “Now,” the creature growls, and he hastens to obey; dropping his hands back into his lap and waiting, trembling from need and anticipation and just a hint of lingering fear for extra intensity. He feels like he's about to crawl out of his skin. Nothing fits right, he's too small and too big and too _empty_ \--

Tex slides his cock back into his mouth, filling him and overtaking his senses, and Tommy can only moan. He lets his jaw hang open, his tongue dragging over every inch of hard, velvety flesh that it can. He tastes sweat and musk and something he can't place, something that doesn't ring as even remotely human. It's addictive nonetheless, drawing him in and trapping him in a constant loop of pleasure and pressure; the pain in his jaw and throat, the slide of that thick cock, the momentary lurch in his chest and stomach as he struggles not to gag and ruin this.

“What a gorgeous thing,” the creature above him is snarling. His broad palms pin Tommy’s head in place, keeping him still so that every thrust sinks his cock as deep as it can go. “So desperate for us, and such a mess. Look at you, pet. I bet you’re leaking all over yourself. Making a mess just for us, because of us, aren't you? Need it so badly you can't control yourself, hmm?”

Tommy’s whine is muffled; his head trembles between his roommate's palms, twitching subtly as he tries his best to nod. He swallows around the thick cock filling his throat, his eyes rolling back and his thighs quivering.

“Are you going to cum all over your lap like the filthy little thing you are?” Tex forces himself deeper, pubic hair scratchy and musky against Tommy’s face; the scent filling his nose and making him keen pitifully. His chin and throat are a wet mess of saliva and precum, his shirt sticking to his sweaty, overheated skin. He couldn't respond even if he wanted to, digging his nails weakly into his knees and feeling how his lungs burn from lack of oxygen; the way his abdomen clenches and his hips rock up against nothing, his boxers molded to his neglected cock thanks to how much he's leaking.

“So fuckin’ perfect, Tommy boy,” the man groans through his clenched teeth, and that's _Caleb’s_ voice layered over Tex’s, wrecked and growling but so affectionate that everything around Tommy erupts with the force of an explosion and he cums in his pants just like Tex predicted, sobbing and writhing against the leg that's shoved between his thighs. His mouth is empty, his cries too loud for their thin walls, but he can't bring himself to care. He clings to the leg in front of him and humps against the creature's calf without shame, whining and begging in a broken voice with no idea what he's asking for as the world unmakes itself around him.

Everything is wonderful and nothing makes sense, his senses overworked by the influx of pleasures tearing him in so many different directions. He knows his chest is heaving but he can't feel it; everything is unsteady and dark around him, and so wonderful that it's terrifying. Nothing like this has ever happened to Tommy before. He feels _drugged_ , noise and light starting to filter back in as his senses return slowly, one by one. He feels himself shaking, his face pressed against the inside of his roommate's thigh. He's breathing harshly, his hips still rocking through the aftershocks of his orgasm. Fingers are carding through his sweaty hair gently, with just the faintest drag of claws to remind him of the danger he's pressed so trustingly against. Tex holds his weight easily, letting Tommy catch his breath and whine quietly at the pleasure still shivering through him.

“Such a good boy,” the creature rumbles, his voice distorted and simmering with a violence that Tommy is already becoming familiar with. He tilts his head up just enough to see, his chin nestled beside sweaty pubic curls; his vision is still blurry, but he can see Tex’s smile easily enough. Those eyes are still a swirling, fathomless abyss, blue and amber and black overtaking his vision until Tommy opens mouth and lets his tongue rest temptingly against his swollen lower lip.

“Can,” he rasps, panting like a dog and fully unable to care. To prove his point, he turns his head and licks at the thick, hot cock bobbing beside his face. “Want,” he adds, plaintive and quiet. Sentences are too difficult to formulate with his brain still so scrambled, but his instincts know how to lead him until he's lipping at the hot, sticky head of his friend's cock and whimpering.

Long fingers fist in his hair and pull him away, the action so unexpected that Tommy makes a startled sound of protest. He tries to reach out, only to have the world shift and blur around him as he's dragged to his feet and turned. The couch cushions are too soft and uncomfortable against his sweaty skin even through his shirt, dragging the fabric unpleasantly against his nipples; sticking to his arms when they come up to brace him. He squirms, confused and uncertain, trying to stand up until a heavy palm curls around his nape and shoves him back down.

“Stay,” Tex warns him, that one word layered with threats and promises that make his stomach twist and clench. He feels the cold air like a shock when his shorts are dragged down, the damp material pooling around his ankles. The chill of the air conditioning is chased away almost immediately by the hot palm that drags across his ass. Tommy moans and tries to rock back, ignoring the pain from the frame of the couch digging into his hips.

“Please,” he murmurs, squirming and pushing up onto the balls of his feet to get as close as he can. The word falls from his lips like a broken mantra, a steady stream of “please, please, please, _please_ ,” filling the quiet room as Tex holds him down and looks him over. When those dry fingers press between his cheeks to nudge at his hole, Tommy’s chest heaves with the force of his sob. He's never needed anything as badly as he needs this, to the point that he doesn't care if it hurts. He doesn't care if he _bleeds_. He's so empty it _hurts_ , and Tex is promising to fix that with the thumb pressing against his entrance. It _rubs_ and he grinds forward with another broken, desperate sound, rutting his wet cock against the back of the couch before rocking back for more.

The noise Tommy makes when that hand leaves is entirely undignified. He tries to turn his head, to look at Tex while he begs if it'll make a difference, but his face is forced back into the cushions and a savage growl reminds him to behave himself. It's a terrifying sound, but the fear only heightens his arousal and Tommy is left to wonder just what the fuck kind of kinks have been hiding inside of him all these years, that this kind of thing can make his cock twitch and fill after just coming so hard.

“Please,” he whispers, and the growl tapers off into a rumbling purr as those fingers finally return. They're slick and cold this time, something Tommy hadn't expected; he jerks in surprise and gets no time to recover before the first one is teasing at his hole again and pressing in. He's expecting claws and feels blunt nails instead, and the way the finger presses and twitches inside of him makes his mouth fall open and his muscles tremble violently.

“ _Oh_ ,” Tommy huffs, strangled and thick. “Oh, fuck, _please_.”

“So fuckin’ gorgeous, Tommy boy,” Caleb whispers, and Tommy whimpers in response. “Fuck, been wanting this for so long. Sophomore fuckin’ year, Jesus. Just look at you. Feels good, huh?”

Tommy nods frantically, helplessly. “Uh-huh,” he moans. “Please, more, want it, please.”

“You want another finger already?” Caleb asks, sweet and rough and emanating heat like a furnace behind him. Tommy nods even harder, dragging his cheek against the dark, dampened suede of the couch cushion. He's drooling and he can't stop himself; he can't remember how to do anything but beg and _want_ with a voracity that borders on terrifying but doesn't quite make it all the way there.

Two fingers press into him, twisting and curling almost too soon. It hurts in the best way, _burns_ because it's been a while since he's done this to himself; even longer since anyone else has. The hand at his nape squeezes soothingly, grounding him, and Tommy shudders as he reminds himself to relax. He squeezes the cushions until his fingers ache, trembling from head to toe and gasping out weak, pitiful noises of pleasure as CalebTex stretches him. He can't tell who it is fully, Caleb’s voice soothing in his ears but underlain with the promise of danger and violence. The fingers inside of him stretch and push almost too quickly, but Tommy can't even consider asking them to stop. If they stop he might actually fall to pieces, caught between pain and pleasure until they bleed into each other and become one and the same.

He rocks back, arching and twisting his hips, and his body jolts like he's been shot when their fingers drag roughly against his prostate. “ _Yes_ ,” Tex growls, and Caleb groans, and Tommy’s scream is silent when they start thrusting their fingers harder, fucking him deep and fast and sending him spiralling all over again, only to yank him away from the precipice he's hurtling toward when their fingers are suddenly taken away.

Tommy is turned and shoved down to his knees before he can comprehend what's happened, the hardwood floors unforgiving when he hits them, but that pain just adds to the rest and builds him right back up again.

“Fuck yourself,” they growl, lips pulled into a crooked grin. Tommy obeys without hesitation, reaching back and shoving three fingers inside of himself. It's wet enough that the glide is relatively easy, even with the added stretch and the accompanying burn. He can't reach his prostate like this but it doesn't matter, because strong fingers are gripping his jaw and pulling him forward, coaxing his mouth open for their cock. He goes willingly, sucking and licking for all he's worth; moaning almost too loud even with his throat full and his nose buried back in pubic hair. Tommy can't imagine anywhere else he'd rather be right now, looking up with watery eyes to watch the creature above him as they take their pleasure. They stare down at him, their lips curled back in a silent snarl as they thrust and rock and fuck his face, their hands holding his head in place again; fingers stroking gently along his ears and down his neck, a gentle touch to go along with the roughness. Tommy shoves his fingers in as deep as they'll go and twists them, ignoring the pain in his wrist from the angle as he cums all over himself for the second time.

“Good boy,” the creature above him moans, eyes flickering between amber and blue before settling on the latter, and Caleb’s moan is loud and rough when he cums down Tommy’s throat after a few more rocking thrusts. His roommate holds him in place, panting like he's just run a marathon, and Tommy swallows every drop he's given. He's still shaking, still trying to reorient himself into something resembling human, when Caleb pulls back gently and helps him to his feet.

He's not expecting the kiss, but Tommy falls into it greedily, clinging to his best friend and whimpering hoarsely as he's kissed with a tenderness that shakes him even more than everything that's just happened.

“Caleb,” he rasps against the taller man's lips, whimpering at how much it hurts to talk but determined to try. “Caleb, I-”

Caleb licks into his mouth, stealing the words from him with a soothing hum. “Shh, it's okay,” he whispers. “Can you walk?”

Tommy isn't even sure he'd be standing right now if Caleb wasn't supporting him -- a fact the other man must realize, if his rueful smile is any indication.

“Right,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Let's get you sitting down, and I'll get you something to drink, okay?”

“I don't need-”

“Tommy boy.” The nickname shuts him up, Caleb’s easy, soothing tone taking on an edge of warning. He sees a quick flash of amber in his roommate's eyes, and Tommy blushes at the twinge of interest that curls through him; licks his sore, swollen lips and nods.

“Okay,” he whispers.

Caleb rewards him with another soft kiss. “Good boy,” he murmurs, and he chuckles at the tiny sound Tommy makes in response. “Let me take care of you, and then we'll talk, okay?”

Helpless to do anything else -- and lacking the energy to do much more than lean against Caleb and let the man bear his weight, which he does easily -- Tommy can only nod and rasp out another weak, “Okay.”

“Good boy.”


End file.
